I am going into my fourth year of recovery from my two conditions; Bipolar I and CPTSD. It is hard for me to believe sometimes that I am actually alive and now I have a colorful, sometimes troubles story to tell.
I live in Colorado and the picture above reminds me of the Rockies, maybe they are the Rockies. Anyway, I guess my life is currently in a state of flux. I am experiencing a strange sort of nirvana, bliss and numbness all at the same time. My partner and I are coming apart at the seams and I am no longer up to sewing us back together again. I have used everything from a glue stick, staples, needle and thread. This one I am handing over the control. I am getting out of the driver’s seat and letting myself relax in the passenger’s seat while God jumps into the front seat. This can either become a nightmare or an amiable parting or a deeper place of communion of the minds. I am actually getting prepared for any and all of the possible scenarios but not playing out any outcomes. That is God’s department.
I really do not know what I am up for. So, I am going to sit back, put my feet up with their freshly painted toenails and exhale. That is right…exhale. It is part of my self care techniques. Bringing myself to center by doing some deep breathing from within my belly, holding and then exhaling. Letting the heat build up in my core and bringing me to a state of grounding. Strange to be doing that without having to report to anyone. Sorry but it is true. Liberation is part of my Mission Statement for myself. And as each day goes by and my partner and I keep walking in the opposite direction, the stronger my wings become and the ache to fly starts to consume me.
The word that I got when I was doing my prayers is for me to be still and to allow things to just happen. I mean just let go and anticipate the best no matter what. You know that you are in recovery when something like this does not make you want to jump ship and let neurosis creep in. Not here…no creepy crawlies here sir! Time to dance this one on my own…for whose to know what is possible for me?
Recovery for me is just like overcoming an obstacle of wounded wits and lack of faith. I believe you can flourish after a mental health crisis…even if it takes seconds at a time. Take each one of those seconds and live them.
The sky looked cold today. I am coming off of an emotional trip. It was short-lived but still it wore me out. I am forecasting a favorable future for myself in this year. I am practicing the Program and applying the principles. I am also using the scorecard which is great for keeping score of how I am doing. Either way it is a win-win. As I feel my energy shift from living from a physical point-of-view to a spiritual one.
The more I prioritize and strengthen the health of my spirit the bolder I am getting with some of the areas of my life that have been greatly neglected. I have battling with binge eating since I was 15. This is the last frontier for me. I know that I can master certain things in life but this is my 14er so-to-speak. I feel like a foreigner in my own body. I have so abused it with overeating. The addictions I developed out of it has been exasperating, wearing my soul down. I knew though that I could conquer this demon that has lived with me most of my life…until now. As I am making the edits to the second addition of the Handbook I am really “getting” the Program for my life. My hopes is when I launch the second edition and open the doors to the SELF, INC. Life Program, I will have proven to myself that the Program does work if you put forth the effort. You don’t have to apply 100% of it for it work. That is the beauty. To make it really simple it comes down to one thing…”Live Life with the Spirit leading the Mind as the Body follows.” Amen to that!
Hhhmm, gosh, I feel good. I mean today I was on track with things. I am prioritizing the thing that matter. I am experiencing a sense of peace that time is on my side right at this moment. Who knows when my memoirs will go to print. SELF, INC. is far more important than anything I can complete. My works I mean. I am in the flow of writing again which has not happened in years. I cannot remember the last time I fell into the groove of creating. The ambiance and the room I am in is so perfect for this. I am sitting on top of my hippy comforter. I feel like a little girl discovering her gifts. I have always wrote, I always told stories. Now I am doing both again.
My Avatar would be one of a teenage girl, with long dark chestnut hair and eager hazel eyes. She would be fearless and courageous and outrageously romantic. Fantasies of angels and mystical beings dance inside her head. It is her children’s story that has been writing itself and is yet to come to realization. That one day will be her masterpiece. In the meantime, she inspires me, because she is a survivor. She is doing her best to resist the fears that have crawled into her world at the hand of predators. No matter how I say it, it never comes out the way one would think. She was sexually assaulted. That is probably better to say it that way. After all it is the fucking truth!!
When I think about my perpetrators I just want to scream and rage. Back in the day, when it would come out in fits of mania, I would draw to me animals of destruction. I would be scathed, scratched and torn at with jagged nails and gashing teeth. I became a Mary Magdalene to many. Treated like a used rag. Outcasted. Well, I am screaming and raging now and it feels damn good. I am the mother to that 15 year old girl and I am going to let her express herself any way she wants to. I have created a safe space for that and no one and nothing is going to prevent her from feeling her Will. She has not forgotten how to fly, how to dream and how to live. She is my muse and her journey has been a long and arduous one. But she can see the horizon, we can both see it.